Misconception
by Pizzachic
Summary: Because not every teenage boy is 5'10...This is pretty much the result when i'm bored and procrastinating.


Eyes, bright and wide in the dark.

Red wings fluttering against his rib cage.

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Robin regretted swaying Bruce into going on that Justice League trip and letting him stay alone for the night.

Insomnia and paranoia laced around his logic, as the pale moonlight crept over his sheets. The boy tossed and turned. Trying to find rationalism in every vague snap and low groan emitted from the house. Terribly simple sounds they were, all due to the massive structure's settling. Piercing through the cold silence, the noise echoed through the house's immense passages. It seemed to take on an entirely new nature, perverse and unnerving.

"Its nothing," said Robin, his voice cracking still from puberty and nerves. Subconsciously he pulled his sheets further above him.

Then suddenly, out from the voids of night. A small cry erupted outside Dick's bedroom, slightly startling him. Robin stirred in his skin.

A flash of shadow. His adrenaline spiked.

Heart beating erratically. His eyes narrowed, surveying.

Trying to stay calm.

Realizing that sleep wasn't an option, Robin laid his eyes at the grand window set before him. A frame inspired by gloom and dread, the window revealed the enchanting skylights in the manor's horizon, bright and vibrant like stars in the cosmos. The brilliant moonbeams trickled through the chamber, staining the floors and redecorating the walls with shadows.

Robin let out a nervous laugh, easing off the fear. His body slowly relaxed.

"It's nothing," said Robin to himself. He chuckled. "Just paranoia."

Robin then gave his room one good look and turned over. Like the flicker of a dying cinder, he fell in and out of sleep. An image of a moment's time coming in and out of his vision. Lids becoming droopy, a warm breath ghosted over his face. Immediately his sapphires opened wide. All traces of tire vanished into the atmosphere. A dark manifestation loomed over him, searing green orbs and a menacing Cheshire grin.

Robin tried to scream, but he was muted by a filthy hand. It smelled like dried blood. The Boy Wonder glared at his attacker.

As quickly as the trespasser as come upon the room, the light shifted, Robin's eyes grew wide as he took in the sight. Tousled blonde hair and tanned skin, approximately the same age as Robin. He was scarcely-covered in a strange ensemble of leaves and vines. Robin blinked. Was it…no it couldn't be. He's an old fairy tale, like the Easter Bunny and the Boogieman.

The strange boy cocked his head to the side, his radioactive eyes bright with a crazed joy. "Hello, Dick."

Taking no hesitation, Robin kicked the odd boy in his unmentionables. The stranger groaned and doubled over on the bed. Robin growled and struck the lad in the gut, sending him into the wall. The thud echoed throughout the colossal chamber, dust particles floated in the pearl light as the boy slumped in the corner.

Robin quickly sprang from his bed and ran towards the collapsed boy. He gripped the attacker's throat and narrowed his sapphire eyes. Chin tensed.

"Who are you," said Robin harshly to the boy's face. The intruder's head flopped back. "How do you know my name?!"

Almost comically, the boy's face popped forward and his eyes exploded with a childlike malice. Robin glowered, trying to hide how truly creeped out he was. The boy was a few inches taller than Robin and strangely sturdy for his age. He curled a grin.

"I'm Peter," said the lad. "And I know a lot of things about you, Dick."

"Listen Peter," said Robin. "You know nothing about me, all I know is that you're going to jail for this."

Peter grinned and he said slowly, almost with pure delight.

"I know that you're all alone…isn't that right, _Boy Wonder_."

Robin freaked and threw his fist towards Peter's face, to find it caught in the boy's hand. Peter giggled. Yes, I really did mean giggle. He smiled malevolently and pulled Robin fast to his chest, his arms like vices around him. A gilded spark quickly twinkled around them. _Tinkerbell?_ Robin gasped as he felt his feet leave the floor. They were floating.

"Happy thoughts," said Peter in a song. A sprinkle of gold flew around the window and it flew open, leaving them vulnerable to the night sky. The cold air chilled Robin's bones, Goosebumps kissed his skin. The Boy Wonder thrash about as a shadow grinned beside him.

"Don't fight, let's have fun tonight," said Peter into Robin's spikes, they were inches from the ground, heading towards the open window. Robin couldn't believe it, he was being kidnapped. He was going to be flown out from the casement, like some sort of Disney movie. Peter continued his deranged song. "Let's go off to Netherland!"

"Leave me alone, put me down." said Robin. He tried to keep the terror for his voice. He struggled with his arms and finally decided to jerk back his head. It knocked Peter's face, hard. Arms loosening, Robin fell from Peter's grip, quickly onto his feet. The wooden floor thumped loudly. He turned, fastened into a fighter's stance. Peter held his hand to his bleeding nose, still in midflight.

"Why do you need me anyway," said Robin in a yell. Why did he let Alfred take a break from the night? His hands formed into fist and his legs spread apart for balance. He pondered if he should make a break for it and grab his utility belt in the Batcave, while the creep was still in fairy-mode. "I'm fifteen, not twelve!"

"If you never did you should, these things are fun and having fun is good," said Peter, still high in the air. "Little people are people no matter how little..."

"What's that supposed to mean," said Robin, getting all defensive. "Is that a short joke?"

At that moment, something occurred to Peter Pan.

"Wait," said Peter, blinking. "You're not twelve?"

Then upon randomness upon randomness, a British-gentleman of advanced age emerged from a dark patch behind Peter. Robin's eyes widened with surprise. It was no other than Alfred. With no hesitation or second thought, the man jumped up and slammed an iron pan on Peter Pan's head, causing the mythical creature to fall onto the floor.

"Bloody bastard," said Alfred, looking down at Peter groaning on the floor. "I knew I shouldn't have left."

* * *

Ta-Da!

Alright. Soooo, since there is room open to imagination here. I give permission for anyone to add to this story. Please tell me, I want to read it. EK!


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